


Show Me How (to lay my sword down)

by allonsy_gabriel



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Families of Choice, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay, Gen, Healing, Inner Dialogue, Love, M/M, Sappy, Sibling Love, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:15:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23176057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allonsy_gabriel/pseuds/allonsy_gabriel
Summary: He's great.He's Taako, y'know, from TV, and everything is just fucking dandy .Yes sirree bob.Don't even worry about it.And he’s good, he’s fine, everything is peachy-fucking-keen until he throws a kid off a train.(Or, The One Where Taako Relearns What It Means to Have A Family)
Relationships: Angus McDonald & Taako, Barry Bluejeans/Lup, Kravitz/Taako (The Adventure Zone), Lup & Taako (The Adventure Zone), Taako (The Adventure Zone) & Everyone
Comments: 27
Kudos: 226





	Show Me How (to lay my sword down)

**Author's Note:**

> Ahahahahaha I'm quarantined so expect there to be a lot more where came from
> 
> Don't psychoanalyse this please

Taako isn't smart, but sometimes he likes to imagine himself as a scientist.

Nothing with rocks or plants or bubbling chemicals in little glass tubes. No, Taako sometimes thinks of himself as something of a biologist, standing over a cadaver and wielding a knife.

A body, dead and cold, labelled _Taako's Feelings_.

(It's ridiculous because he's never even _seen_ a dissection, nevertheless _performed_ one, but he figures it has something to do with cooking, with handling a blade and a piece of meat.)

He neatly slices into his own emotions, pulls them out, turns them over in his hands, holds them up to the light and under a microscope for analysis.

_The subject appears to struggle with both physical and emotional affection, most likely stemming from deep-seated issues regarding abandonment, vulnerability, and his own self-worth._

_The subject has also completely given up on the idea of being 'good enough', and at this point seems to have also abandoned the futile effort of goodness, period_.

He takes copious notes (for whom, he doesn't know, but he takes them nonetheless), writing everything down in the folds of his own useless, empty brain, before he closes himself back up, sewing shut all his jagged holes with sutures made out of arrogance and cockiness and the occasional well-placed joke, and then he's fine.

He's great.

He's Taako, y'know, from TV, and everything is just fucking _dandy_.

Yes sirree bob.

Don't even worry about it.

And he’s good, he’s fine, everything is _peachy-fucking-keen_ until he throws a kid off a train.

 _In his defense_ , he was doing it for the kid’s safety, so, like… that should help. That’s a _plus_ , actually, shut the fuck up, _Magnus_. But nooooo, what does Taako get as a reward for his heroic, child-saving actions?

A small, mostly annoying, not at all endearing boy detective following him around like a duckling and providing fucking _uncanny_ insight into Taako’s mental and emotional state.

Angus is sitting across from Taako in the cafeteria, picking at his own (poorly seasoned, jeezy creezy, it’s not that hard to open up a container of fantasy-Tony Chachere’s or red pepper flakes or _something_ ) roasted chicken and veggies and staring at Taako with his chin propped up in his hand.

“Are you thinking about changing your magical specialization, sir?” he asks, looking up at Taako with big, brown eyes, his dark skin covered in even darker freckles, his teeth gapped and just a bit crooked, his hair brushing his ears in messy curls. There’s something about him, about the bright optimism, the intelligence, the determination in his tiny, tiny body that’s eerily familiar to Taako, but he can’t quite place it.

Something deep in his brain remembers an offhanded mention of a father in the past tense, recalls statements of a grandpa on his death bed, and whispers something about _birds of a feather_.

Taako ignores it.

“Wha—no, what the fu—why would you think that?” Taako asks, and he doesn’t know why the question has him bristling so much. He’s changed his specialization before, or has at least _tried_ to. He switched to evocation after—yeah, doesn’t matter why, point is, he switched from transmutation to evocation and then _back_ to transmutation, so it’s not like he doesn’t have a history. It’s not like it’s an offensive question.

Except…

Something about it _is_ , in a weird way. _Of course_ , Taako’s a transmutation wizard. _Obviously_ . It’s—look. He’s an idiot, yes, but if there’s one thing he’s an expert in, it’s—well, it’s cooking, but _other than that_ , it’s Taako. Taako knows Taako _pretty damn well_ , having had, like, 130-some odd years of experience with the subject, and transmutation is just what Taako’s _supposed_ to be doing. It’s what comes naturally. People talk about _working hard_ to access their magic, but with transmutation, Taako’s never had that problem. In fact, he’s had the _opp_ —

He’s never had that problem.

“Well, you _are_ studying conjuration magic, sir—”

“Yeah, ‘cos we just got our sorry _asses_ handed to us by some wack-as-fuck conjuration magic, and ch’boy thought to himself, ‘Self, maybe I should look into that, just a bit, so that next time we go out on one of these insane death missions I can, uh, _wreck somebody else’s entire shit_ with it,’” Taako says with a roll of his eyes.

“Oh,” Angus replies. “That—that’s a good idea, sir. I hadn’t even thought of that.”

Taako scoffs. “Some detective.”

He convinces himself it doesn’t bother him when Angus’ face crumples, just a bit, and goes back to studying _Evard’s Black Tentacles_.

This goes on for about two minutes before Angus pipes up with, “Do you not like your teammates, sir?” Taako glares at him over his book, but Angus doesn’t seem to be deterred and just keeps on chugging along. “I only ask because you’re always avoiding them, Mr. Taako, sir. I only ever see you spending time with them in training, otherwise you’re—you’re always alone, and I was just wondering if they—if you don’t like them, is all.”

“I—that’s none of your business, kid,” Taako snaps.

“But whenever you _are_ with them, you don’t seem _upset_ . Or, not any more upset than you _usually_ are, sir. In fact, you appear to be _less_ upset around Mr. Magnus and Mr. Merle,” Angus continues, his eyes travelling up and to the left as one of his hands moves up to tap on the tip of his nose. It’s an action Taako’s seen a few times, one that means Angus is _cracking clues_ or whatever the fuck it is that tiny genius boy detectives do, and suddenly Taako is terrified. “I—sir, do you—are avoiding your teammates because you _like_ —”

“Okay, that’s—that’s enough. It’s—your daily allowance of Taako Time is officially up, so—actually, you’re a _baby_ , aren’t you—isn’t past your bedtime, kid?” Taako interrupts, snapping his book shut and quickly moving to his feet.

He—

 _Fuck_.

So maybe Angus isn't _100%_ wrong. So maybe Taako does, for some inexplicable, _incomprehensible_ reason, actually sort of… tolerate… the other two chucklefucks that make up their fucking Disaster Squad.

Taako would blame it all on multiple shared traumatic experiences, but he knows from the past that's all bullshit, so.

And really, it's—the whole thing is just fucking worst case scenario. Taako said he wasn't gonna do this shit anymore, right? No more—no more people. Just. No. None. Nuh-uh. Casa del Taako is _closed for business_ , please and thanks and also fuck you, except…

Except now he _cares_ about these morons. Like. Genuinely. Which is scary because Taako doesn't really _do_ genuine, generally, and he _really_ doesn't do caring, so, like.

The whole thing is fucking wild, basically.

"It's three P.M., sir," Angus says, and Taako takes a moment to consider throwing the spell book in his hands at the kid's head.

" _Ugh_ ," he eventually says, and decides that, no, for today the tiny child may live, if only because of Taako's unending benevolence.

There’s something in these moments that _hurts_ . Taako is alone—Taako has _always been_ alone—and that’s _fine_ . That’s _for the best_ , but…

Gods above and below, does it feel _wrong_.

Something inside of him, something stupid and aching and _raw_ , wants him to—wants him to _care_ . Wants him to have people _around_ . Despite _everything_ , all the shit he’s been through and all the shit he’s learned, Taako wants them _here_ , and it—

It hurts now because he knows what’s coming. He knows it’s going to hurt even more later.

Angus smiles at him like he knows something, and that kid is so fucking smart that he probably fucking _does_ , the little shit, and Taako rolls his eyes. “I’m going to the library. I’ve added all these to my spellbook, and the Director said something about there being a couple more advanced transmutation books in there, so…” he says.

Angus’ grin widens, his nose wrinkling up and his eyes squinting, cheeks covered in freckles and dimples, hair unruly, and says, “Actually, sir, I think I have research I need to be doing, so I’ll probably be heading to the library, too!”

It’s familiar in the worst way, and Taako feels his heart twisting in his chest.

**

Kravitz is… unexpected to say the least.

Death is funny. Death is kind. Death has cold, clammy hands and absolutely _no_ pottery skills and the sort of snorting, wheezing laugh that makes Taako’s insides twist up.

Taako maybe has a crush on Death.

Because Taako is, apparently, _an idiot._

It’s bad enough that he laughs at Magnus’ jokes, that he listens to Merle’s terrible stories, that he teaches Angus magic, that when he looks around the moon his mind involuntarily categorises these people as _friends_ , now he—now he’s getting _feelings_ . Soft, mushy, _vulnerable_ feelings, for none other than _literal fucking Death._

He’s stupid. He’s so _fucking_ stupid. Obviously, he’s learned absolutely godsdamn _nothing_ , or else he would’ve already broken off this _whatever_ he’s formed with Kravitz, but…

Call him a dumbass or a masochist, he can’t make himself do it.

Kravitz is just so _nice_ , and not, like, the usual definition of nice. He’s _absolutely_ an asshole, but he also cares in a way that’s surprising, in a way that’s sincere, in a way that leaves Taako feeling raw and exposed.

And Taako…

Taako finds himself caring, too. He wants Kravitz happy and safe. He wants to know what instrument he played when he was alive (which, uh, seems to be fucking _all of them,_ but Krav has a specific affinity for cello and clarinet), what his favourite season is (spring, which surprised Taako at first, but he figures there’s some deep symbolism there that he’s too lazy to properly comprehend or appreciate), what books he reads (anything he can get his hands on, the nerd, but his guilty pleasures are the dumb fantasy Nicholas Sparks novels you buy in the check out line at fantasy Dollar General), what foods he likes, what plays he’s seen, what his favourite memories are and what he thinks about when it’s quiet and he’s alone.

He _likes_ Kravitz in a way he can’t remember even liking _anyone_ . He likes Kravitz in a way that seems to rapidly hurtling past _like_ and onwards towards some other four letter word that starts with ‘L’, and the whole thing leaves him exhausted and frazzled and on edge.

Caring for people is exhausting, and it must show because when Kravitz appears in Taako's room, date ready and dressed to the nines, he takes one look at the elf and furrows his brow in concern.

"Are you okay, dearest?" Kravitz asks, and Taako doesn't know when homeboy beefed it, but it must've been a while ago because he still uses old-ass pet names like _dearest_ and _darling_ and _treasure_ and _dove_.

It makes Taako's heart do stupid somersaults in a way he's not sure if he appreciates.

"Yeah, I'm—I'm good. Better now that you're here," Taako replies, and it's supposed to sound sultry and teasing, but instead it sounds…

Sincere.

Which, uh.

Gross-a-rooni.

"Are you sure you want to go out tonight, Taako? If you're not feeling up to it, we don't have to—"

"No, no," Taako interrupts. "I don't—I want you—here. I want you here. Uh. Yeah."

Kravitz blinks at him for a moment. "In that case…" he says, and then he bites his lip, showing off one of his slightly-pointier-than-usual canines, and Taako gets the impression that if bone boy had a fully functional circulatory system, he'd be blushing. "I could stay? And we could—we could stay in? I… I don't know if there's takeout on the moon, but—"

Taako takes his hand, pulls him in, kisses him quickly.

"That sounds—that actually sounds really nice," he says, smiling up at Kravitz.

He's afraid, of course. He doesn't remember the last time he _wasn't_ afraid, to be honest. The world is—

The world isn't kind. The world doesn't care, not about him, not about anyone. It's cruel and heartless and things don't—

Things don't work out. Real people don't get happy endings. Life doesn't get better, it just fucking _goes_.

But this… 

This, he feels, he could get used to.

Which might be the scariest thing of all.

**

The memories roll over him like waves, like a storm, like a _wildfire_.

A high pitched laugh ringing throughout his Aunt’s kitchen.

A hand in his as her casket is lowered into the ground.

A gap-toothed smile across a small, flickering campfire, lit with the first cantrip either of them learned.

Her head peeking over the edge of her bunk, her messy hair hanging like a curtain as her upside-down face grins at him.

Her hip bumping against his as they walk across the IPRE campus, an arm slung around his shoulder.

The horrified look on her face as his head rests in her lap, blood in his teeth, and he dies for the first time.

Her arms wrapped around him in an unnaturally warm embrace after they reappear on the ship’s deck at the beginning of the next cycle.

Lup had always run hot.

Lup, loud and vibrant and headstrong, tugging him along, holding him close, standing beside him.

Gone.

Taako is on his knees, bent over himself on the cold, marble floor of the Bureau of Balance headquarters.

Taako is—

Taako is _smart_. Taako is a scientist, the best in his class, with three fantasy masters’ degrees and two fantasy Phds. Taako is a physicist and an engineer and expert in magical theory and a biologist, and as he kneels there on the ground, his mind once again presents him with a scalpel and forceps and a blinding light.

The answer to the question, to _every_ question, is Lup. She’s the thread that holds him together, the heart that pumps blood and _life_ into a body that once sat dead and cold.

And she’s still _gone_.

Not because Lucretia took her away—although she did that, too—but because she _left_.

She left Taako alone, and now he’s had to sew himself shut without her.

He struggles to his feet, using his umbrella ( _her_ umbrella, the one she made, the one he mocked her for, the one he _pulled from her withered, lifeless body_ —) as crutch before turning it on Lucretia, who should’ve _known_ , who should’ve _seen_ , who—

“You took _everything_ from me!”

The words are sour in his mouth, but he knows they’re true.

**

Taako sees Lup, and he cries. Taako sees Kravitz, and he cries. Taako sees Angus, hoisted on top of Magnus’ shoulders, proclaiming to all the world that _they won_ , and he surprises himself when he starts crying _again_.

He thought he would have run out of tears, by now.

“You, uh, you good, bro?” Lup asks—she _asks_ , because she’s real and present and _here_ , mostly, depending on whether or not you count corporeality or not.

“Um, I—I think that’s still pretty up in the air, actually,” Taako says, wiping under his eyes. His fingers come away wet with tears and blood, and now that he thinks about it, he _does_ kinda feel like shit, and also he thinks he might’ve dislocated his shoulder and broken a few ribs and— “Yeah, uh. That’s definitely—hey, you got eyes on Merle? Or, like, spooky skull-holes on Merle? Because I, uh—hey, um, can we talk about the fact that, like, _half the people I care about_ are some sort of _undead skeleton bullshit_? Can we discuss that one, maybe? Because I—Taako’s feeling pretty left out, here.”

Lup is already hovering high above the crowd, and Taako can tell the moment she spots their resident lack-luster cleric because she’s off like a bolt, zipping in what Taako can only think to be a specific hippy dwarf’s direction.

Taako groans, sagging forward against the KrEbStAr, and—hey, past Taako, way to make your spellcasting focus exactly crutch-height, that was—yeah. Good call there, bud.

He’s still crying, he can feel it dripping down his nose, his cheeks, his chin, and his arm hurts like a motherfucker, but around him everyone is whooping and hollering and laughing because it’s _over_.

A hundred and twelve _fucking_ years and it’s _done_.

Lup is back a moment later with Merle in tow, and then Merle is casting _something_ and Taako feels like he can breathe again, and—

“Whattaya say we, uh, blow this popsicle stand?” Lup says. She’s floating just beside him, so close that he occasionally feels the hot, fuzzy feeling of her spectral form brushing against him. “I… Apparently Barry’s got a secret cave lair? And I dunno about you, but ch’girl needs a couple of solid hours before she can deal with all… _this_.”

The thing is, though, Lup _does_ know about him. She knows, which is why she’s now gently pushing him out of the crowd, murmuring _something_ that Taako can’t really hear, which is fine because she can tell _that_ , too, and—

“I missed you,” Taako whispers.

“I know you did, babe.”

“I missed not being alone.”

It’s more open and honest than Taako has been in—well, in _twelve motherfucking years_ , but he—

He doesn’t mind.

“You’re not going to be alone anymore, Ko,” Lup mutters. “Not ever again.”

**

They get a house just outside of Neverwinter, one with two master bedrooms and four guest bedrooms and a fucking _fantastic_ kitchen.

Lup and Barry move in quickly, filling the house with textbooks and research papers and empty coffee mugs, even though Lup can’t technically drink anything. Barry accidentally slices the sofa in half while he’s learning how to use his scythe, and Lup frequently catches things on fire, and once Lup get’s her body back they both have a terrible habit of _forgetting to cast Silence around their godsdamn bedroom_ , even though _they all live in the same fucking house, Lup! Taako dealt with this for fifty fucking years on the Starblaster, and if he has to deal with it now, he’ll actually, for real,_ **_literally_ ** _kill them both! Don’t fucking test him!_

Angus takes a bit longer. It starts out with the occasional visits during school holidays, and then extended stays, and before any of them realise it, the kid is coming down every weekend, leaving _Caleb Cleveland_ novels on the kitchen counter and his soccer cleats by the front door, and one of the guest rooms is _Angus’ Room_ . He falls asleep curled up against Taako’s chest one night while they’re watching fantasy Die Hard, gap toothed and freckled, his hair sticking up every which-way, and Taako glances between him and Lup, newly corporeal, and realises with a start why this stubborn, curious, _caring_ kid always seemed so familiar.

Taako decorates his and Kravitz’s room with cushions and throws in elaborate silks, all in jewel tones and midnight black, with candles that smell like cinnamon and chamomile and bergamot, with strands of twinkling lights. It’s warm and soft and gorgeous, and when Kravitz sees it he smiles and wraps his arms around Taako’s waist, his chin propped up on Taako’s shoulder. “It’s lovely,” he says. “Being here with you, making this _life_ , together… It's lovely, Taako.” 

And Taako believes him. Taako believes him, and at night he falls asleep next to Kravitz and doesn’t have any night terrors.

He wakes up in the morning with Kravitz’s arm slung across his waist, the reaper snoring softly into Taako’s hair, and he can already hear Lup banging away in the kitchen, can already smell the crepes that he will inevitably have to save from her _Sweet Crepes Only_ grasp. Angus is probably awake, too, curled up in the reading chair in the living room with a book and a cup of orange juice while he waits for breakfast. Magnus and Merle are coming over for dinner tonight, and Taako’s going to cook something with chicken and garlic and actually let people eat it this time.

Probably.

It’s nice in a way he’s almost afraid to name.

It’s ridiculous how foreign the word _family_ sounds after little over a decade. He spent a _century_ surrounded by people who love him, and a hundred and ninety some-odd years _before that_ with the one person who loves him _most_ in all of creation, and yet…

“You’re thinking too loud,” Kravitz murmurs, his lips brushing against Taako’s chest. “You don’t have to be afraid. We’re not going anywhere.”

Taako scoffs, but he tightens his grip where he’s got his arms around the reaper’s torso, buries his face in Kravitz’s hair, let’s himself get wrapped up in the scent and the softness and the security of the moment.

For the first time in a long, _long_ time, Taako isn’t afraid to care.

**Author's Note:**

> Stay safe!!! Tell me what you think!!! Find me on tumblr @allonsy-gabriel!!!


End file.
